


just don't underwhelm me

by jinrou



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop, SHINee
Genre: Gen, Pre-debut, Trainee Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 23:29:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12143454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinrou/pseuds/jinrou
Summary: Sometimes being a trainee isn't about the training you undergo, but the people you meet.





	just don't underwhelm me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roommate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roommate/gifts).
  * Inspired by [just overwhelm me](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/324741) by onyu. 



> fixmix mods, you are amazing and absolute angels ♥ onyu, i think i've always wanted to remix something of yours and i'm glad i finally got the opportunity to - i hope you like this!

Taemin gets pulled out of lessons by a man he only vaguely recognises from around the building – he’s not that tall, maybe around Donghae’s height -- and into one of the small meeting rooms on level 7. There are a few other boys in the room too – Minhyuk, and Jungshin who are in Advanced Dance 4, and Jinyoung who he sees in Advanced Dance 3 sometimes. There’s no camaraderie between them though, even though they see each other more than Taemin sees his own parents. There's no love, only fierce determination.

"We've gathered you here today--" The man starts, and Taemin knows it's really inappropriate but it sounds like the minister during a wedding and he has to bite his lip from grinning too hard, trying to look serious like the other trainees before someone knocks on the door and it opens to reveal--

"Boa," the man says, and Boa smiles, waves at all of them, and sits next to the man that Taemin finally recognises as Boa's manager, Jongwoon.

"Sorry I'm late," she says, smiling still, and gestures towards the other seats. Jongwoon raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything as the other boys sit, and Taemin hovers for a moment, feeling younger, so much younger than he'd only an hour ago in a room with trainees four, five, six, maybe even seven years older than him.

Boa wears an easy smile and exudes a charisma that only comes from years of practise and a natural tendency for spotlight. Her face is relaxed but perfectly so - eyes crinkled slightly in joy, lips quirked up with happiness, cheeks round, face wrinkle free. Her hair swings over her right shoulder, gently curled with different shades of brown running through it, and her head tilts so it catches the light and her eyes sparkle. It reminds Taemin that this is what he's aiming for -- to become an idol like Boa, who knows exactly what it's like to be in the spotlight and to _own_ it.

"Please sit," she says gently. "Don't be nervous, you're not in trouble or anything."

Taemin's pressing the pads of his fingers into his knuckles, frowning as he stares at his hands. The air in the room feels dense and a bit off, like they're all waiting for a bombshell to drop, unsure what's awaiting them.

"I've called you in here because you've all shown wonderful talent," Boa continues, and she drums her fingers on the table. "You've all been training here for at least a year and have proved yourself one way or another -- and as you probably know, I'm going on tour soon."

Taemin watches as Boa continues tapping her fingers gently on the table, the only sound in the room beside her voice. He digs the nails of his right hand into the palm of his left, slightly, to ground himself.

They're all waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"And for a tour, I need back up dancers."

The other three boys let out a breath, but Taemin doesn't dare until he hears it, actually hears the with his own two ears.

"You've been selected because you've all proven proficient," her manager says, and Taemin finally lets the air rush out of him. "You will join Boa on her tour in two months' time -- practise for her concert will take precedence over your other lessons. A schedule will be released tomorrow and Koharu, the choreographer, will meet with each of you tomorrow to determine where you'd best fit. Any questions?"

The air feels dense but empty at the same time, full and empty -- all of them waiting for the cruel twist, for the present to be yanked away.

"No questions?" Boa asks, still smiling, and turns to look at each of them in the eye. She stares at Taemin when she speaks, next, "It'll be hard work, but I have faith in all of you."

She stands and leaves, Jongwoon producing some papers from his suitcase as she does so, citing another meeting, and Taemin isn't sure he can breathe until the door clicks shut behind her.

 

"It doesn't feel real," he says as he sits on the rooftop, phone pressed to his ear.

"I'm happy for you hyung, that's a big step. It means you're going to debut, doesn't it?" Taesun says. "You've only been there for a year and a half."

Taemin bites his lip and looks out from the roof, watching the cars below him. He wonders how many of them are people on their way home to their family, a meal already waiting on the table. a warm hug on hand if needed.

It'd been a few weeks since he's been home and talked to Taesun, seen his parents and eaten his mother's homemade meals. But it's a small price to pay to be here, to be learning, to be _growing_. To feel like he's slowly becoming the dancer, the performer, he wants to be.

"I don't know if I'm ready for it," Taemin says softly, and Taesun makes a soft sound.

"Well, Boa thinks you are. And her manager. Isn't that enough?"

Taemin closes his eyes and tips his head back, welcoming the feeling of the wind through his hair, cooling and drying the sweat from something-hours-of-dance. He thinks about how he'd danced earlier that day, following the instructor's movements and the beat of the song, but not being satisfied with what he saw in the mirror.

It still felt stiff and a bit unnatural -- too much _them_ and not _him_. It felt like he was just following stiff movements and 5-6-7-8, not the beat in his head and the beat in his body, telling him how to move and how to just _flow_

"I don't think I'm enough, not yet," Taemin says back, and Taesun hums back.

"You were always a perfectionist, hyung. You know you'll be fine, no matter what."

"But _fine_ isn't _good_. I don't wanna be on stage until I can prove that I'm worthy."

"When will you be ready? What if it's never and this is your only chance?"

Taemin falls silent and scuffs the toe of his sneaker along the lip of the roof. Taesun always liked to play the devil's advocate.

"If I never feel ready then I guess I'll never be ready to debut."

Sometimes Taemin forgets that he's the older brother, especially when he hears Taesun's sigh filter loudly through the phone.

"You sure? You sound like you've made your mind up about this."

"I'm not sure," Taemin says back. "I'm not sure of anything." 

 

"Do you regret it?" 

Taemin's lying on the floor of the practise room, sucking in air as he tries to get oxygen in. His bangs stick to his forehead with sweat, and his hair's long fallen out of its ponytail. 

It's maybe nearing 1am or so - it's probably deliberate that there's no clock in the practise rooms. Which means that only the more dedicated trainees are around - and that voice is either Jinki or Jonghyun. 

"Regret what?" 

They both know what they're talking about - they just don't want to be the first to bring it up. Taemin can see it in the twist of Jonghyun's lips, the way he bites his lips and how his eyes flicker around the room before settling on Taemin's chest. 

"Boa's tour," Jonghyun says, and Taemin watches Jonghyun in the mirror. He crosses the room, strides long and shoulders hunched forward before dropping to the floor behind him, resting crossed arms on his knees. 

"You passed up a great opportunity." 

Taemin shrugs.

“I wasn’t ready.”

Taemin watches as Jonghyun takes a large, shuddering breath, his shoulders shaking gently.

“If Boa thought you were… Are you sure you weren’t?”

Taemin hates being still, hates having to sit up straight, arms folded in his lap and a smile pasted on his face, but it’s a lesson they all go through for future press conferences and photos. The only time stillness comes naturally to him is now, after a good dance session, limbs feeling languid and devoid of any tenseness or excess energy.

He feels at peace and satisfied.

And he knows himself better than someone who has only watched him dance for an hour or two at most, better than his dance instructors who might monitor his movements on a near daily basis, but doesn’t understand how it feels when his body doesn’t reflect what he wants it to. When what he sees in the mirror isn’t what he envisions.

When it hasn’t _clicked_ , yet.

But he knows it will, eventually.

 

“Why’s singing so hard?” Taemin whispers fiercely, legs dangling over the edge of the rooftop, Jinki standing behind him.

“I think dancing’s harder,” Jinki says, laughing slightly. He drops down, hands light on Taemin’s shoulders, and digs his thumbs into the shoulder muscles, massaging lightly as Taemin winces. They're sore from the 2am he pulled the night before in the studios, pulling out the extra hours for the dance showcase coming up and the pain is only half unwelcome. 

“Let’s swap. You go to all my dance practices and I’ll go to your singing lessons. Deal?”

Taemin twists around, head tilted up to Jinki, and Jinki’s smile is soft in the light.

“You wish." Jinki combs his hand through Taemin's hair and Taemin leans into it, his eyes on the streetlights and skyscrapers in the distance. One of them is MBC. One of them is KBS. Another is SBS. 

"But--" Jinki starts and then stops. When Taemin looks up, Jinki is biting his lip. 

"But what?"

"I could teach you to sing, if you want."

 

Taemin could probably count on one hand the other trainees he'd consider friends - Jinki, Jonghyun, Junhyuk, Soojung. 

He knows others, of course. Joonmyun. Kibum. Kihyuk. Siwan. Sooyoung. Minho. 

But the thing is - people come and go. People who say they'll stick it out for the long run, who'll never give up on their dreams - that's exactly what they do. They realise their dreams aren't actually their dreams and decide that a life of stage lights and idolhood isn't for them -- they'd much rather be a normal kid and go to school, appreciating the world of idols from afar. 

And it hurts when they leave, because it's hard to open up to others - it's ten times harder in a place like training where everyone is simultaneously your friend and your rival. 

So he really only talks to those who've been there for half a year, at least. Who've proven that they can stick it out and are determined to make it one way or another. Who've proven they've got an iron clad fist on the idea of idolhood and only something ridiculous like death will get them to let go. 

"That's pretty morbid, Taemin," Jonghyun says as he chews on his rice. 

Taemin's got mixed feelings about Jonghyun -- half the time he seems to treat it all like a joke, like it's just a place to hang out and meet friends, always playing around in the practise rooms and introducing himself to the new trainees, taking them around all the rooms and showing them the cafeteria and vending machines.

The other half, Taemin will be creeping out of the building at midnight or later, trying to avoid the security guards least he be reprimanded and be home even later, and he'll hear a voice inching its way under a door. It's usually studio 2A or 2B, and Taemin's peeked enough times to recognise Jonghyun's voice in the early hours of the morning, long after all the other vocal trainees have gone home (except maybe Sunyoung).

"Is it still morbid if it's true?" Taemin answers, and Jinki eases his hand between them. 

"Hey, let's not talk about this. Taemin, you have the showcase soon, don’t you?”

Taemin pauses mid-chew and checks his watch, jaw clenching slightly. He hates backing down from a disagreement, but Jinki always has the best intentions at heart, and arguing with stars-in-his-eyes Jonghyun in the middle of the cafeteria won’t help, so he just sighs before picking up his tray and leaving.

“Break a leg!” he hears Jonghyun call out, and he can’t help the grin that sprouts on his face at that.

Optimism and friendliness isn’t all that bad. 

 

"How'd today go?" Jinki asks, head turned away and eyes tracing the lines of windows of skyscrapers. Jinki grounds himself in the opposite way Taemin does - in numbers and silence and structure. Taemin hates being still, always moving.

"I versed Jihoon," Taemin answers and Jinki turns his head. 

Everyone knows Jihoon, or at least knows about him. It's bad luck to verse him, who treats it all as malicious competition and not a way to prove yourself. Jihoon sees it as a way to beat the other dancer down, to prove you're better than _someone else_ rather than proving your own worth. 

"How was it?"

Taemin shrugs. "Better than Jongkook."

Jinki quirks a smile at that. "That's not much of a gauge."

Taemin frowns and traces the edge of the lip of the roof with his index finger, the edge digging into the soft pad of his finger.

Jihoon brought an energy to the stage that had been missing with Jongkook. Jongkook didn't have faith in his own abilities and buckled, and the dejection and loss of confidence in his movements made Taemin buckle, too. Made him question his own movements rather than trust his body to follow the flow that he could see in the music. And once you've missed a beat, and then four, it was hard to recover and grab that thread again. 

"Jihoon was good, he's a good dancer, but..."

Taemin bites his lip.

But there was something missing in it. 

Technically, Jihoon is a great dancer, able to pick up choreography relatively quickly and stay on beat, movements smooth and deliberate, but there wasn't any heart in it. It was like he danced because he knew it was good at it, but not because he loved it. Not like how Jinki or Jonghyun poured their soul into their singing, or Hyukjae or Donghae made sure every one of their movements on stage meant something.

"But it wasn't enough. It didn't feel right, dancing with him."

Taemin stares across at the city lights, hands clenched around the lip of roof, and Jinki lightly ruffles his hair.

"Don't worry. You'll meet your match soon."

 

“We’re… having a battle.”

Small talk and talking in general are not Taemin’s forte -- it’s a reason he’s a dancer and not training to me a MC.

He backtracks immediately when he sees Kim Jongin’s wide eyes and the angle of his shoulders -- hunched forward. Curled in. A little bit afraid. But still with a gleam in his eyes.

“Sorry, I mean hi. I’m Lee Taemin.”

The smile that slowly stretches across Jongin’s face is warm and full of a promise of friendship -- not even a promise, actually, more like they’re _already_ friends. 

“I know,” Jongin says simply, and shakes Taemin’s hand. “You made the guy you were up against in last month’s showcase look like an absolute loser.”

Taemin doesn’t know what to say to that, but the laughter crawls out of his mouth, unbidden, and the smile on Jongin’s face subsides into something easy and relaxed. It’s so natural and simple, brightening and bringing an easy happiness to his face that Taemin has next to zero doubts that Jongin has the capability to become an idol.

There’s something in Jongin that holds and captures Taemin’s attention, unlike Jongkook. Something about the curve of his innocent but pleased smile, his loose but perfect posture (back straight, shoulders now thrown back, thumbs lightly hooked into his pockets) and the tilt of his head. Inquisitive and curious. 

Sizing Taemin up, and Taemin does the same right back. 

Jongin isn’t overconfident, but he isn’t afraid, either. He’s curious and undaunted, waiting to see what Taemin will offer on the dance floor, and Taemin feels the same.

There’s a gleam in Jongin’s eye that’s all too familiar, and Taemin can’t wait to see what he’ll see.

 

The beat drops, something familiar from a few years ago, and Taemin’s breath trickles out of him.

He’d danced this a thousand times before in practise and listened to Boa’s tracks on repeat after her invitation to dance on her tour. He knows the words inside out, and how the melody weaves itself; how Boa’s voice lifts and soars, and even the choreography that she’d been planning for her tour for this song. 

This song is one he knows, and as soon as he launches himself into the first move, he can see that Jongin does, too. It’s nothing like the original choreography, but what’s the point of dancing if you’re not dancing to your own beat?

In a way, these freestyle dance showcases not only how well they can move, but also their creativity and imagination, giving them to the chance to dance something unchoreographed and something that _hasn’t_ been spoonfed to them.

Taemin relishes it.

He lets the music take hold of him, rather than counting out the beats and keeping track of when to step forward, when to spin and when to drop down to the ground. It’s always liberating

It’s why some of the fresher trainees find it hard to perform at these showcases and squeeze routines into songs that don’t quite fit. How sometimes, he can see how the trainees count out the beats and map out a choreography in their head, when that isn’t how it’s meant to be - when you should just let the music take control and lead it wherever you want it to.

He dares a glance at Jongin and catches his eye, and the smile Jongin sends him is fresh and unassuming, speaking of fresh trainees, even if his steps are practised and smooth. Jongin doesn’t falter, arms and feet never unsure or wavering, and this certainty in his movements lets Taemin be more daring and push harder, his steps heavier, his spins faster.

But Jongin matches him in power and tenacity, in speed and agility, and Taemin can see the way Jongin’s eyes track his movements, just as Taemin’s are doing to Jongin. The way Jongin leans his weight to the left just before he shifts, or he locks his elbow before he thrusts with his hand. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Taemin can see Jongin mirroring his own in preparation for a spin, except that Jongin's arms are cocked perfectly for a pirouette; back straight and arms and legs angled perfectly. It’s the perfect counter to Taemin’s loose, heavier spins, and the balance between them is there, the push and pull to meet each other evenly until it's less like a challenge and more like a seesaw, where they can feel each other's weight without looking and move in tandem. 

They spin, synchronised, and it’s like Jongin can read his mind because they both stop after two rotations, Taemin’s arms reaching out and Jongin’s right leg pointed and extended, both landing right on the last beat.

It’s the first time in a regular dance competition that Taemin’s felt this energy -- this balance and equilibrium between him and his partner that he’s felt like it was less about him pulling his partner along, making him match his steps rather than just feeding off each other.

It feels natural.

It feels _right_ to dance with Jongin.

And the smile Jongin shoots back as their chests rise and fall in tandem, says the exact same.


End file.
